


In the Light

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gem of Amarra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-13
Updated: 2009-11-13
Packaged: 2019-07-02 07:31:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15791901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Cordelia enlists Spike to help her rescue Angel from Marcus.Okay, so this takes place entirely during the episode "In the Dark" only with obvious tweaking. :)





	In the Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cafedemonde](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=cafedemonde).



> This is a mod challenge for **cafedemonde** who asked: _Can I have Spike/Cordy where its season one Angel and Spike gets the Gem not creepy Marcus but then gets brow-beaten by Cordy into helping her save Angel from creepy Marcus?_
> 
> Lighthearted, PG, only some light swearing. And I hope you don't mind, but Spike and Cordy actually don't do more than neck. Read this for the snark, not the sex. ;)

Really delightful, when a plan comes together. Spike tossed the ring, just to watch it catch the faint light in the sewer access tunnel. Then he remembered how priceless it was, thought about how bloody awful it would be to have to search the underfoot muck for it, and consequently nearly dropped it.

Sobered, he slipped it onto his finger and then, for good measure, stuffed his hand in his duster pocket until he got out of the sewers.

It took a moment, hesitating on the threshold, like plunging into a cold bath, but he screwed up his courage and stepped into the light. AH! Blinking and squinting at the uncharacteristic sight of so much brightness, he sauntered out into the Los Angelus heat, nodding his head in satisfaction.

Yup. A plan well-laid, elegant in its simplicity. Use that Marcus wanker to keep the pouf busy, and no doubt send the Angel-minions out to rescue him, while old Spike could take his time searching around Angel’s haunts. They must think he was really thick indeed, to think he was actually expecting to get the ring’s location through torture. Any child knows that doesn’t work.

Oh yes, they were always under-estimating old Spike, but you had to get up pretty early in the evening to…

Spike stopped in his tracks, facing a crossbow bolt aimed at his sternum. The pretty cheerleader glared at him over it, brows drawn as tight and serious as the bowstring. Spike rolled his shoulders and gestured wide. “Seeing as I am standing in the glorious sunlight, just what do you think that little toy is going to do to me, sweetheart?”

“You set Angel up.”

“And people said you weren’t the brains of the operation.” Spike leisurely lit a fag.

“You are going to help me get him back! Or I’ll…”

“You’ll _what_?” Spike smirked.

Cordy tossed her head high and let the crossbow fall to her side. “I’ll cry.”

Spike raised an eyebrow, exhaled a puff of smoke, and continued on his way back to the Desoto.

Cordellia cut him off – she could run quick in those heels. “If you only knew, how much he means to me.” Her eyes were big, glittering with moisture.

“I’d suggest you need better taste in men.” Spike side-stepped her.

And she was somehow in front of him again, one hand extended toward him, eyes quite liquid now, forehead all prettily wrinkled with sorrow and a single tear glinting like a diamond on her cheek. “Don’t make me… make me…” she sobbed, her cleavage heaving up and down in a very distracting way, “Don’t make me beg.”

Spike was going to push her over and stalk on his way to his car. Hell, maybe even eat her, come to think of it. He was really, really going to do that.

After he took her in his arms and said, “Aw, pet, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

“Ha!” Cordelia said, snapping back to her full height and pushing Spike back. “I knew it!”

“Bloody hell!”

“Oh, you can Brit-swear all you want, loverboy. Do as I say or I will haunt you, using my brilliant acting skills to make you feel sorry!”

As threats went, it was ridiculous. And yet he felt nervous. “Bugger off, bint. I’ll just eat you.”

Her eyebrows canted, tears welling in her eyes again. “Would you?”

“Gah! FUCK! Women!” Spike gestured violently, stomping in a circle. He came around to face her again, her face all pouting and… and feminine. He crossed his arms. “Fine.”

She brightened instantly and turned toward the hotel, all business, talking as she walked briskly. “Good. Since you obviously know where Marcus is holed up, your job is leading us there. I have the crossbow, so we’ll park out front, or whatever, and I’ll sneak around to the back or whatever, and dust that nasty bastard. Oh, and we’re taking my car, because yours is disgusting and probably a death trap, and you don’t need those gross painted-out windows right now, anyway.”

“Oi! Look here, I am not your little lacky!”

She spun around and planted one perfectly-sculpted fingernail in the center of his chest. “You look here. I have the pout, and I have the tits, and I am not afraid to use them. So do as I say”

Spike caught himself stuck on the word ‘tits’, as they were nearly in his face, and he wanted to purr, “that you do, lovely.” He shook his head sharply and forced himself to meet her eye-to-eye. “You’re banking an awful lot on my weakness to feminine wiles. Are we forgetting I’m invulnerable now?”

“Please. I saw you with Freakzilla, remember?”

He glowered at her. “Leave Drusilla out of this.”

“Still pining? She was a nut job.”

“No one talks about Drusilla that way! She was… high strung, is all.”

Cordelia narrowed her eyes, studying him. “If you weren’t evil, and you know, broke, you’d be _great_ boyfriend material.”

“I’m not broke!” Spike countered, then scowled at himself, realizing too late that Cordelia had already continued on her way. “Oi! Hold on!”

Cordelia slipped into the driver’s side of sleek red compact, tossing the crossbow into the backseat.

Spike stood, obstinately by the door. “I’ll drive.”

“Excuse me? This car is almost paid off. The evil undead ride shotgun.”

He opened his mouth to argue the point – after all, he was the one who bloody well knew where they were going – but her steady stare quailed him.

“Fine,” he said, as sarcastically as he could, and gathered his duster close to slip into the passenger seat.

He was trying really hard to not be turned on by a gorgeous woman ordering him about. Damn it, that was probably Darla’s fault, which made it, tangentially, like all things, Angel’s fault.

“Turn left. He’s holed up in an old warehouse, near the waterfront.”

Cordelia turned the wheel confidently. “Wow. What a shock. Big originality points there, bad guy.”

“We go in, I dispatch my creepy co-conspirator, you and Angelus have a big, tearful, chaste reunion, and I am on my bloody way, got that? _With the ring._ ”

“Pfft. Like I care. You’ll probably lose it in a week.”

Spike scowled, but wasn’t able to come up with a snappy come-back before Cordelia pulled the car up to their location. She hopped out, crossbow at the ready and nudged her chin toward the front entrance to the warehouse. Spike nodded and pointed to a fire escape on the side. She half-rolled her eyes, which managed to elegantly convey “Of COURSE you’d pick the dramatic entrance, attention slut,” and trotted off toward her entrance, all business.

He had to marvel a moment – and not just because her ass was very nice in those jeans, her hair bouncing aginst her back as she ran. There she was, rushing off to face down two vampires, one of which was effectively invulnerable, with nothing but a crossbow and a gorgeous rack.

Peaches _definitely_ didn’t deserve her.

The confrontation went textbook perfect. They burst into the room simultaneously, there was no place for Marcus to run, not in the daylight.

Except that Marcus wasn’t there. The only sign of his recent habitation was the bizarrely clean square in the center of the warehouse.

Cordelia stomped her foot. “Gah!”

“He was right here. Um… Well! Too bad. Be on my way now, ta. Got a slayer to kill.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Cordelia grabbed his ear.

“Ow!”

“As long as I have no champion, you have no rest. Got it?”

Spike snarled and grabbed her by the biceps, snapping his fangs at her. “I’ve had about enough of you.”

“Wait! Just… just think how humiliating it will be for Angel to be rescued by you!”

Spike held still for a moment. Cordelia tentatively smiled. He sighed and let her go. “You are devious and manipulative. I like it. Right, what’s next?”

“You’re the vampire, you tell me. Why did he leave? Where could he have gone?”

Spike rubbed his chin. “Wanker probably thought I’d turn on him. Wanted more time to play with Angelus, get the ring for himself.” He snapped his fingers. “He wouldn’t have gone far. If I caught him, he’d want to claim it was just artistic temperament that made him move.”

“Oh-kaaay. All reasonable, which let me tell you, is something of a shock – but how does this help us find him? He didn’t leave a forwading address card.” She gestured at the clean-swept floor.

Spike shrugged. “I’ll follow my nose. Spent enough time with Angelus, love, I can track him anywhere.”

“So track!” Cordelia waved her hand at him.

He sighed dramatically and closed his eyes. Lifting his head, he inhaled long. He shook his head. “Too much Angel in here. Gotta get clear.”

Cordelia’s smart heels clicked after him as he crossed the wide warehouse space to the main entrance. He paused in the alleyway between two warehouses, inhaling again. Slowly, he started walking.

“A leash would be really handy,” Cordelia muttered as he ducked down an adjoining alley only to pop out again, shaking his head and continuing the way they’d come.

“Already planning on keeping me, are we?”

“Only as a less-slobbery alternative to a blood hound. I told you, you are _not_ boyfriend material.”

“Well, who is a good beau, then? Captain Forehead?”

“He has a soul.”

“Yeah, when it stays on. Slips off and it’s Mr. Let’s Give Ending the World a Go. Me, I’m consistent. Thought birds appreciated that in a bloke.”

“Please. Angel is a caring, understanding, handsome man.”

“Oh, you _do_ fancy him, then!”

“He’s just my boss. And a million times better than you.”

“Oi! I’ll have you know I have it on good authority that I’m better in the sack! From bints who had the means to know!”

“And yet you call them ‘bints’. Gee, why ever am I not swooning?”

“I’ve half a mind to… sh.” Spike held up a finger, stopping, head cocked, near a doorway.

“That’s right, you do have half a mind.”

“Sh! I think we’re there. Mouthy bint,” he muttered, leaning his ear against the door.

As if on cue, a familiar voice cried out in pain.

Cordelia pushed Spike aside and kicked the door open. “Let the cutie go or eat wood, freak!” She advanced on Marcus with her bow high.

Marcus held up one hand in surrender while he pushed a metal rod further into Angel with the other, just an inch, then pulled it free. Angel thrashed on his chains and howled.

Marcus stepped so Angel’s hanging form stayed between him and Cordelia. “How unexpected. Of course, you cannot shoot me, dear girl. The moment your bow fires, I will snap your neck.”

“That so?” Spike popped up behind Marcus. “Sorry, mate, this is your severance package.” And Marcus exploded into dust, which Spike coughed and shook from his clothing.

Cordelia dropped the crossbow and ran to let Angel down from his chains. As soon as she had Angel sagging against her shoulder, she said, “Wait. You’re an evil vampire, and you carry a stake.”

He shrugged. “You wouldn’t believe how often it’s useful.” He tucked it back into an interior pocket of his duster. “So, we’re square, right? Have fun carrying that lard-ass home.”

“Spike,” Angel growled, it came out weak. “Get you…” He raised one hand feebly.

Spike rocked on his toes, licking his lips. “You were right, princess, this is fun!

Cordelia sighed, and turned, carefully setting Angel down on the floor. He made small, pained growls.

She walked over to Spike. “Not nearly as much fun as this,” she said, and wrapped her arms around him.

Spike raised both eyebrows in shock, but then warm lips were on his and all he could do was surge into her embrace, returning it with strength and passion.

And then he was pushed backward.

“Hm. That _was_ pretty good. We should talk.” She held up her hand, displaying the Gem of Amarra proudly on her fingertips. “Later.” She held up his stake in her other hand.

“Oh, bollocks,” Spike said, and turned tail. He knew better than to challenge a beauty queen with a new piece of jewelry.

The End.


End file.
